And You Beside Me
by Trumpet-Geek
Summary: [miyusawa] series: I Sing Myself. Eijun is a miracle wrapped in Kazuya's bed sheets.


**And You Beside Me**

_By_: TG

_Summary_: Eijun is a miracle wrapped in Kazuya's bed sheets.

_Disclaimer_: I don't own daiya =0

_Warnings_: Spoilers for the manga, sex, tears probably idk

_AN_: So this is the fic that almost didn't get written haha. I started this fic back in December but had to quit writing for while because I ended up in the ER, and when I got better I came down with a case of minor writer's block and crippling self-doubt and then, of course, wrote through the rest of it with a sinus infection. Working around very sick people every day can be a health hazard, even when you take precautions =0 So please forgive me if it's not up to par, I tried really hard to get this out in time for 02/20!

Anyway, this is a sequel to The World Before Me, and it is recommended that you read that first if you haven't already!

HAPPY MISAWA DAY!

* * *

"I will You, in all, Myself, with promise to never desert you,  
To which I sign my name." –Walt Whitman

* * *

As they enter the city proper, Kazuya catches Eijun staring, cheek patchy and red, nose smushed from where his face has been pressed against the cold glass window. His eyes are tired but wide, face open, mouth grinning and full of shining white teeth. The line of his shoulders is relaxed, and his hands fold and twist into the fabric of his jeans, kneading like a cat –squeeze and release, squeeze and release. His clothes are rumpled, his hair mussed. He is soft and sleepy, like maybe he's been on a plane for forever, like maybe he hasn't been able to relax for months until now. Like maybe he's happy.

He is so beautiful. It's hard to believe he's real.

Kazuya reaches out, brushes his fingers against Eijun's, marvels at the way the pitcher's long fingers automatically thread with his, sewing them together. His hands were made to hold a baseball, Kazuya thinks. Eijun's thumb absently sweeps across his knuckles. Maybe they were made to hold him, too.

"Geez, Kazuya," Eijun huffs, "your hands are cold -!"

Kazuya looks up to find Eijun's eyes on his in the reflection of the window. Los Angeles passes around them, but Eijun's not focused on the scenery anymore. Despite his complaining his fingers tighten around Kazuya's, squeezing, squeezing.

He is here.

He brings the hand up to his mouth, touches his lips to the soft skin of his fingers and again to the warmth of the pulse at his wrist. The gold in the reflection melts, and he thinks, _I have so much to make up for, and so little time_.

* * *

Kazuya knows from personal experience that it's best to stay awake, to persevere through the burning eyes and the hazy fog of jetlag exhaustion, so he does his best to keep Eijun occupied. Predictably, nothing works out the way Kazuya wants it to.

Chris-senpai finds him at Eijun's side, watching him sleep in Kazuya's bed. He is lovely like this, slow, even breaths and dark eyelashes fanning across soft round cheeks. Kazuya aches to touch him, but…

"Everything inside?"

Chris hums his assent, and Kazuya doesn't have to turn around to know that he's smiling –he's not the only one who's missed Eijun these past months, after all. "He really fell asleep in the cab mid-sentence?"

"Haha yeah! One minute he was practicing his English on the poor cabbie and the next he was out."

"He must have been very tired," Chris observes. Silence blankets the room, punctuated only by Eijun's soft breathing and occasional kitten snores. Eijun is a miracle wrapped in Kazuya's bed sheets, a beautiful disaster of a boy even in sleep. Kazuya feels his pull like the tide, though if he's honest with himself he's been magnetized to him since the very first time they met, scrawny middle school kid with a mouth too big and a heart to match.

So then, why does he feel so far away?

* * *

"Chris-senpai!"

Eijun greets Chris like nothing has changed, like Chris never graduated. Like Chris never took Kazuya away with him. He is eager and puppy-like, sleepy golden eyes and mouth stretched wide on a grin. Across the table, over the hearty spread of breakfast platters, Chris folds the newspaper over to hide the curl of his lips.

"Good morning, Sawamura. I trust you slept well?" Chris enquires delicately. The tips of Eijun's ears go pink as he mumbles out a reply. He's been asleep for over twelve hours, and it's obvious that the smell of breakfast is what lured him down from the nest he made out of Kazuya's blankets –he's still wearing the jeans and hoodie he passed out in, his hair is so fluffy and tangled that it could be mistaken for a cowlicked hairball, there are lines on his face from where it was pressed against the creases of Kazuya's pillows, and the dark stain at the collar of his hoodie suggests that Kazuya might have fallen in love with a drooler.

"You might want to fix your hair before we go out," Kazuya says, slinging an arm carelessly over the back of his chair. "And wipe up your drool."

Chris twitches in his seat and throws a dark look at Kazuya as Eijun whips his head around, zeroing in on the easy grin playing at the edges of Kazuya's mouth. He raises his fist in the air, though the motion is less threatening and more cute since he's still half asleep.

Eijun has always been such easy prey.

"I-idiot! I wasn't! I don't know what you're talking about!"

Eijun jams himself down into a chair next to Chris, picks up his set of chopsticks, and angrily and enthusiastically shovels his food into his mouth at a rate of speed that would have been startling if they hadn't spent their high school careers watching it first-hand.

Chris clears his throat, decidedly not watching the mess that Eijun is creating at the table, and explains that this morning they are going to tour the facilities, since the trip is funded by the training center under the guise of trying to recruit Eijun after his graduation. Eijun's attention is taken up by his food and by Chris, and as Chris talks, Kazuya lets himself zone out.

When Eijun arrived, the moment had been precious. Joyous. As cheesy as it is, he knows that the only way to really describe it is to say that the piece of him he'd left behind in Japan had finally been brought back to him. The car ride back, watching him sleep…it had all been surreal, and beautiful, because Eijun was finally finally here. But as he'd settled onto the couch for the night, with Eijun sleeping away in his bed –god, the thought of it is almost too much –he found that he couldn't fall asleep. He'd tossed and turned, one minute feeling like he should be lying in bed with his partner and the next fighting down the dread and nervousness bubbling up in his gut at the thought of it. He's wanted this boy for months, and now that he's finally here –not a grainy video, not a tinny voice, but _him_ –Kazuya is uncertain.

There's not much that scares him, but not being able to understand his own thoughts is –

Eijun glances up mid-bite and meets his eyes. His eyebrows dip low, and for a moment Kazuya considers panicking, wonders how much of his thoughts are showing on his face, how many of his insecurities are on display, but then Eijun does a weird shuffle in his seat and suddenly Kazuya feels a socked foot graze his ankle, smoothing along the line of his calf, gentle, reassuring.

Across the table Eijun gives him a look. _Cheer up, stupid_, it says. _I'm here_.

* * *

As soon as the door to the apartment opens, Eijun tumbles inside, staggering to the couch and dropping there like he'd just walked a thousand kilometers and this is the first chance he's had to rest. Kazuya raises his eyebrows and watches his boyfriend burrow further into the cushions, golden eyes sliding shut like maybe he could fall asleep right where he sat.

"Paah! Man, I'm beat!"

Chris walks in behind them, closes the door with a soft click. "Maybe you should relax for the night? You must still be tired."

Eijun grins up at him like that's the best idea he's ever heard, and the anxiousness Kazuya's stored away inside himself bubbles up again. He forces himself to take a calming breath and moves away from the door. Closer, he can really see the tiredness settling over Eijun's features. He stops behind him, hands gentle and warm along the nape of his neck and shoulders, squeezing, thumbs digging just enough into the hard muscles of his shoulders to make Eijun sigh and lean into his touch.

"Oi, don't fall asleep on me now."

"Then you better stop touching me or I'll be asleep before you can get me out of the door," Eijun hums.

"You're really that tired?"

"Mmhm. You got me all relaxed and melty too, why didn't you tell me you could do massages?"

Kazuya grins, though Eijun can't see it. "Because then between you and Jun-san I would've never had any free time."

"Selfish," Eijun says, but the accusation is softened by his sleepy tone and the smile curling at his lips. "Help me up?"

"Seriously."

"Yes, come on and take some responsibility here -!"

"All right, all right," Kazuya laughs. Instead of going around to the front of the couching and pulling him up, he braces his hands on Eijun's back and shoves, and Eijun jolts forward with a shocked "hey -!" and only the wild windmilling of his arms keeps him from faceplanting on Chris' hardwood floor.

"You ass! I really _am _tired, you know!" Eijun barks, cheeks flushed to rose and bottom lip pushed out in a pout.

The strange anxiety is back, stuttering the breath in his chest. He clears his throat and turns away from that curious golden gaze, picks up the light track jacket he uses for chilly morning runs, fumbles with it in his hands.

"…I know," he says quietly. "I just –I want to –"

He cuts himself off –how can he tell Eijun what he's thinking if he himself doesn't even know? But there are hands on his, warm and sure. He looks up, and Eijun is standing before him, studying him with a lopsided smile.

"I'm kinda scared," he confesses, voice quiet. Kazuya stares. "For a lot of stupid reasons. Did you know I've never flown before? I was so nervous about actually getting here –y'know, just the traveling part –that I didn't get any sleep before my flight. I was nervous because I've never been away from my family for so long. I was nervous about a million different things, but I think most of all I was nervous about you.

"I still am, y'know. Nervous. About you. I spent so long loving you and not telling you thinking it'd be better that way, and now that you know and now that I'm here, it's just –ahh wait, that came out wrong –"

Kazuya pulls him forward, one hand cradling the back of his head and the other at hip, fingers white-knuckled at the hem of his t-shirt. Eijun squawks in surprise but steps closer, arms coming up to circle low around Kazuya's hips as he lets himself be held. Eijun's face fits perfectly into the crook of his neck, his warm breath puffing out against Kazuya's collarbone.

"I want you," he breathes.

_Stupid, beautiful, brave boy_, he thinks.

But maybe Kazuya isn't the only one with a clock ticking away in his chest.

* * *

Kazuya grins and pulls a hand out of his pocket, key ring slipped over one finger, keys jingling merrily as he spins it around in emphasis. "Get in, we're going for a ride!"

"Are those the keys to Animal's car? How did you get them?" Eijun says. Kazuya just grins wider.

Eijun eyes him a little distrustfully but does as he's asked, grumbling something about driver's licenses and sneaky bastards as he slides smoothly into the passenger seat. Kazuya gets in after him, starts the car, eases out into the quiet neighborhood. His passenger is content to let the world pass by his window, silent, and Kazuya would have suspected he'd fallen asleep but for the glint of gold in the window.

The ride is comfortable, quiet, the radio buzzing low with American pop music. Every so often Kazuya spares a glance at Eijun, watches him discreetly out of the corner of his eye even while the Los Angeles traffic eats up most of his attention. The sun is beginning to set beyond the windshield, a vibrant gold against the twilit sky and the shadows of city skyscrapers. He merges onto I-10 and glances over again, and Eijun is looking back at him.

"You're so pretty," he says offhandedly. Kazuya's breath catches, and he wishes he found it so easy to tell Eijun the ridiculous, cheesy, _heartfelt_ things that make their homes inside his chest. "Y'know, the way the sunlight –ahh, never mind."

Eijun's face is flushed and his eyes are prettier than any sunset Kazuya's ever seen.

"Thank you," he murmurs. His hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel because he's never felt comfortable driving, let alone driving in insane city traffic, but he would much rather be holding Eijun's hand than cold stiff leather anyway.

Eijun's long fingers fit between his like they were always meant to fill the negative spaces. His palm is warm, calloused in all the right places, bigger than Kazuya remembered. There is a kind of peace in being able to touch him this way, in listening to the way he hums along with words he doesn't understand, in the way his eyes catch on anything and everything interesting.

They stay like that, clasped together, even as Kazuya points out the beach houses of Malibu and the vibrant waters of the Pacific. By the time they arrive at their destination, Kazuya thinks Eijun probably would have climbed over his lap to press his face to the window if Kazuya hadn't been driving.

"We're here," he says, grinning, turning into a little parking lot off of the Pacific Coast Highway. He slides his fingers out of Eijun's tight, excited grasp to turn off the car, and the moment he does Eijun is out the door and bounding down the steps to the soft sand below. Eijun's excitement is infectious, and he follows with a smile.

"Kazuya, you brought me to a beach!? I've only seen this kind of stuff in magazines! Oh my god, it's beautiful!"

He's timed it perfectly, just as he planned. He's run here before –it's a good beach, away from the bustle of the city, usually quiet and serene in the early morning. He's seen many sunrises here, dark waters turning pale in the weak morning light. He's seen his share of sunsets, too, but none of them can compare to this.

He comes to a stop at the bottom of the steps, stunned to silence. Eijun is already standing in the surf, feet bare and jeans rolled up to his knees, smile on his face and eyes wide with wonder. The waning light of the sun splashes pinks and purples, oranges and yellows like paint along the frothy Pacific, a pretty backdrop for a prettier boy. He looks beautiful, so beautiful, the most gorgeous thing Kazuya has ever seen.

He had meant to make Eijun breathless.

He thinks he may have miscalculated.

Eijun half turns, looks back at him with a knowing smile, and he realizes he's forgotten to keep moving forward. He tugs off his shoes and sets them down on the steps, takes a deep breath of salt air, and buries his feet in the cooling sand.

"Yeah," he says, not bothering to hide the fact that he's looking straight at Eijun. "It's beautiful."

"You are hopeless," Eijun says, shaking his head. His eyes are incredibly fond though, and when Kazuya steps up beside him he presses their shoulders together, fingers curling around his like vines. The air is chilly without the heat of the sun, but Eijun is warm against his side.

"Well at least I don't look like a fish," he says, grinning. He's trying to restore equilibrium, to grasp at what little control over his emotions he has left. It's a weak, attempt but Eijun glares at him anyway, and as a finishing touch he does his best fish impression, mouth opening and closing as he stares blankly off toward the horizon. Eijun's mouth drops open as he gapes, but he's quick to close it when he sees the look on the catcher's face. Kazuya grins wider.

"I do not!"

"You did! And just now, too! Haha!"

"You take that back, Miyuki Kazuya!"

"Nope," he says, popping the 'p.'

Eijun jostles him hard enough that he almost falls over and says, "oh my god you are so rude! I thought you were calling me...well, y'know...something nice. I don't know. Shut up."

Kazuya straightens and drops his smile, adopts his most serious expression. "You are absolutely stunning, the way your scales reflect the sunli –ah?"

Eijun plucks off Kazuya's glasses, pockets them, and the next thing Kazuya knows he's the one gaping, saltwater dripping off of his nose and chin, wet marks on his t-shirt.

"You little–"

"Now who looks like a fish," Eijun says smugly.

"You," Kazuya says in his most menacing voice, "are going to regret this."

"Oooh," Eijun mocks, "you gonna make me?"

"You bet your ass I am," he growls, and Eijun shrieks "you'll have to catch me first!" and takes off running, kicking up water and wet sand behind him.

Kazuya follows after him because he can't not, because he feels like Eijun is a tide pushing and pulling and sucking him under. Kazuya follows after him, magnetized to his laughter and his smiles and the stupid way his nose scrunches up when he turns around and sticks his tongue out. Follows after him because he's a little shit that needs to be taught a lesson. They kick and splash at each other for fifty meters before Kazuya finally catches up, catches him in the circle of his arms, shaking boy close and warm against his chest.

"You caught me," he says, breathless from laughter. His hands come up, pulling Kazuya's arms tighter around his waist. "What are you going to do with me?

Kazuya hums, presses his hands against Eijun's stomach, his nose against his neck, feels him breathe. "Good question. How about..." He trails off, pretending to think. Eijun huffs. "How about you have to do what I say for the next five minutes?"

"That sounds too easy," comes a suspicious reply. Miyuki hides his grin in Eijun's saltwater hair.

"Just humor me. Turn around."

Eijun does, looks up at him with wide wide eyes, cheeks flushed and lip dented between his teeth. His clothes are soaked with seapsray, hair practically flat, but this close Kazuya can see the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the flecks of seafoam in his eyes, the way his lips are a little chapped from being bitten all the time. He wants to laugh, because earlier Eijun had called him pretty, but there is no way Kazuya could even come close to the boy in front of him.

Eijun reaches up, steps closer, tucks a water-darkened strand of hair out of Kazuya's eyes, touches his fingertips to the soft skin at the corner of his jaw. Kazuya's eyes slide shut, and he turns his face to press a kiss to the center of the pitcher's palm. Murmurs "now kiss me" against his heart line.

Eijun inhales sharply, a hoarse sound catching in the back of his throat. His thumb sweeps across Kazuya's cheek once, twice, and then he's bringing him forward with a hand pressed between his shoulder blades, bringing them chest to chest, sinking into him with a quiet groan. Kazuya's fingers twitch, and he lets them find a home in the twists and folds of Eijun's t-shirt and thinks _yes._

He feels like he's drowning, being dragged along in the tide like the sand beneath his feet. Eijun's fingers wind up into his hair, tug it tight, make Kazuya's mouth open on a sigh, make Kazuya lick into him.

Make Kazuya forget his own name.

The pitcher pulls back just slightly, close enough for Kazuya to taste the salt on his lips and feel the warm dampness of his breath on his cheek. He smiles, slides his nose long Eijun's, says, "kiss me again."

"Your five minutes are up, senpai," Eijun murmurs, but the fingers tangled in Kazuya's hair bring him forward anyway.

* * *

Christmas in the Takigawa household is practically a non-affair –the apartment isn't decorated, there is no Christmas cake in the oven. The only indicators that the day is special are the Christmas songs playing on the radio –and one very excited Sawamura Eijun.

He spends the entire day vibrating while Chris-senpai and Animal do some last minute cleaning at the training center, leaving Kazuya to keep him under his thumb –either by exasperatedly answering all of his questions about the differences between Japanese and American traditions, or by kissing him soundly to _shut him up_.

The latter is his favorite, of course –he can't seem to stop touching him since they kissed on the beach, can't get the feeling of him out of his mind…not that Eijun seems opposed.

Kazuya is busy kissing him again, quiet and slow and _thorough_, fingers on his cheek and hand up his shirt when the lock clicks. Pulling away from Eijun's mouth is difficult, but when they come out to the entryway to see the Takigawas, arms laden with boxes of friend chicken, it's worth it to see the way Eijun's eyes round out.

They spend the evening playing board games, and laughing, and it's warm and soft and this is the first time since he's been away from Seido that Kazuya really feels like part of a family. This is the first time in years that December 25th feels like Christmas. Kazuya wonders if Eijun realizes how _much _he is, if he understands the truth of his impact on peoples' lives.

_I am so in love with you_, he thinks, mouth quirking up in a lopsided smile as he watches Eijun and Animal team up to attack Chris-senpai. Chris gives him a look across the table as his father and his shadow whoop in triumph. Kazuya grins cheekily back.

"Okay kids, I think it's late enough," Animal says, though he's still practically glowing in the wake of his son's sloppily executed defeat. "This old man is going to bed."

"Ah! Wait!" Everyone stops, turns to stare at Eijun, who fidgets under their collective gaze. "Just. I have a thing. For you. Um. I'll just go get it."

Animal's and Chris' stare transfers to Kazuya as soon as Eijun flies out of the room. He wonders if they see him as Eijun's keeper and has to stifle an amused snort. "Do you know anything about this? Should we be concerned?"

Kazuya shrugs. Honestly Chris-senpai should have enough experience with Sawamura Eijun to know that whatever he is up to is usually of the 'no good' variety. Eijun returns before he can say anything along those lines though, grin bright and hands hidden behind his back.

"What have you got there?" Animal asks, a great deal less suspicious than he probably should have been.

Eijun, beautiful Eijun, hands each of them a slightly squashed box. Animal gets homemade mochiko, Chris gets a grubby baseball with twenty-two signatures on it, and Kazuya gets a box of culinary matcha and two cans of Pocari Sweat. Something warm unfurls inside of him, because this boy made mochiko even though he can't cook to save his life, this boy tracked down all twenty members of Seido's first string _and _the coaches from when Chris-senpai was a third year, this boy remembered his favorite drink –something he's sure he only mentioned in passing.

"I'm sorry, I know these gifts aren't much," Eijun says, fidgeting, misinterpreting everyone's surprised silence. "I…I really have no way of repaying you for what you have done for me. I _know_ that. It's because of you that I am here, having these experiences. So…" Eijun squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lips, head bouncing a bit when he bends at the waist a little too fast –a perfect 90 degrees –and shouts, "thank you so very much for your kindness and your hospitality!"

"Thank you, Eijun, these are perfect," Chris says, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

When he looks up again and meets Kazuya's eyes, he's blushing all the way down past the collar of his hoodie and his eyes are just a bit wet.

"You are a Christmas miracle," he says. He means every word, but Eijun shouts anyway.

* * *

Eijun falls backward onto the mattress, breathless and stunning, skin flushed and eyes dark. He laughs when he bounces, low and quiet and intimate, arms tugging at Kazuya until he's following along, warm and heavy on top of him. Kazuya kisses him, red lips and red cheeks and red tongue. Eijun tastes so good he can barely stand it.

Their clothes are in a pile on the floor and the clock is just striking midnight -a new year, a new beginning. They say whatever you're doing at midnight on New Year's Day is what you'll be doing for the rest of the year, and Kazuya can't think of a better way to spend a year than worshipping Sawamura Eijun.

"Senpai," Eijun moans, voice hoarse and damp in the crook of Kazuya's neck. Kazuya's stomach flips, and he thinks_ yes, yes_. Skin against skin, Eijun's cock hard and wet against his stomach, this is what he's been dreaming of.

They fall shakily through the preparations, and when Kazuya finally sinks home his mind goes blank, filled only with pretty sounds falling from pretty lips, soft damp skin and hard bone and sharp nails scratching down his spine -Eijun's claim imprinted in his skin, saying _mine_.

"_God_, Kazuya, just -"

Eijun's teeth are gritted, his fingers spasming against the wings of Kazuya's shoulder blades. He comes with a quiet, drawn-out moan that curls Kazuya's toes and makes his hips jerk.

"Eijun, _fuck _you're so-"

_You're so beautiful._

Eijun's legs tighten around his waist, arms around his neck, ass around his cock, pulling him in deeper, helping him chase the pleasure until he burns with it, limbs shaking and mouth open on a sob.

Eijun's fingers on his face, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

Eijun's smile, tired and lopsided and so satisfied.

"I love you."

When Kazuya wakes in the morning, it's to lazy kisses, wandering fingers, warm naked skin. A husky voice murmuring, "you're so pretty, let me show you..."

* * *

They say whatever you're doing at midnight on New Year's Day is what you'll be doing for the rest of the year, and Kazuya can't think of a better way to spend a year than worshipping Sawamura Eijun, and being worshipped by him in return.

"Eijun."

The pitcher snuffles, shifts a bit on the mattress, falls quiet. Kazuya reaches out and pokes him.

"Eijun."

His hand gets slapped away and he shakes out the sting. Even in sleep Eijun's slap is ferocious.

Kazuya ponders for a moment, running through different scenarios in his mind, before grinning mischievously and leaning in close, breath puffing against Eijun's ear.

"Eijun, you're late for practice. Kataoka-kantoku said you're running laps for the rest of the day. Furya's going to take the mound."

That produces the desired result -Eijun jolts with a cry, eyes and mouth wide open as he sits up, frantically looking around for a clock. He spots Kazuya's grinning face instead and instantly scowls.

"Miyuki Kazuya!"

"Shh! Do you want to get caught!?" Eijun stares at him, the corner of his lips lifting in a slow curl, and Kazuya realizes this is an echo of that moment behind the equipment shed when they'd first met as teammates all those years ago. He smiles back. "Now go get dressed, I'm taking you somewhere."

"At -" Eijun squints at the bedside clock, "two in the morning?"

"Yes, now hurry up."

"All right already, geez you're so demanding," Eijun grumbles, but he does as he's asked, pulling on loose-fitting sweatpants and one of Kazuya's hoodies over the t-shirt he wore to bed. "Better not be anything fancy because this is what you get."

Kazuya laughs to cover up the way his stomach shivers at the sight of Eijun in his clothes and ushers him down the stairs -

("quietly, quietly!"

"I know, stupid!")

\- waits patiently at the door for Eijun to shove his feet into his shoes and then ushers him out of that, too.

"Do you have a habit of stealing keys?" Eijun asks incredulously when they stop in front of Animal's car again. There's a black duffle sitting in the front seat. The pitcher quirks an eyebrow at him, obviously intrigued, but Kazuya ignores it.

"I'm not stealing," he says, grinning as the car starts up nice and quiet for him. "I'm _borrowing_. Now get in!"

Kazuya doesn't tell him where they're going, even though Eijun stares directly at him, eyes boring into the side of his face for the entire fifteen minute car ride like maybe if he stares long and hard enough Kazuya will crack like an egg.

"I'm not a runner on first, you know," he says lightly, biting down on his lip to keep the grin tucked away when Eijun humphs and turns away. "Besides, we're here already."

They pull into a parking lot and Eijun evidently recognizes it because he's tugging on Kazuya's sleeve like an excited puppy. "The training center!"

Kazuya shoots him a victory sign and turns the car off, gesturing for Eijun to get out. The whole building is dark, though, and as they reach the front doors Kazuya can see Eijun frowning. "How are we getting in though?"

The catcher reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a massive key ring with several dozen keys on it, lips pulled up into a shit-eating grin as Eijun's eyes widen.

"You _do _have a habit. Oh my god. My boyfriend is a thief. I'm in love with a criminal," Eijun moans, forehead pressed against the cold metal door. Kazuya snickers and tries a few keys before he finds the right one, and then they're in, entire training center all to themselves.

"I told you, _borrowing_," he says, shiveringas the door closes behind them -it's much colder in the training center without the warmth of a hundred hard-working bodies. "Come on, this way." He takes Eijun's elbow with gentle fingers and leads him toward the indoor bullpens. Eijun is not the brightest crayon in the box, but he certainly seems to understand Kazuya's intention well enough, if the growing smile on his face is anything to go by.

The duffle bag slides off his shoulder and hits the ground with a flat sound and he follows it, kneeling as he rummages around inside. He comes out with two mitts, one of which he throws at Eijun. "I know it's not yours, but I hope it's okay?"

"Oh my god," Eijun whispers. "Are we -?"

"Yeah, if -if you want," Kazuya says slowly.

"I -you planned this?" He sounds shaky, awed, and Kazuya is so relieved that Eijun _gets _it, that he understands. "I -Kazuya, I _always_ want -"

He doesn't respond with words -doesn't need to. When he is behind home plate, and Eijun was on the mound, words became unnecessary.

Kazuya tugs his mitt on, punches the sweet spot once, twice, throws his arms open wide.

_Come_.

The sound of the ball smacking into the pocket of his mitt is one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard, second only to the sound of Eijun's joyous laughter.

* * *

"So," Sawamura says, voice thick and eyes wet. "This feels familiar."

The airport buzzes with life, but Kazuya hears nothing beyond the tremor of Eijun's voice. His chest tightens like a vice and he agrees because it does, it is. He thinks back on pretty golden fingers pushing a piece of paper into his hands, on pretty golden eyes and a pretty golden arm slung around his shoulders. On chapped lips feathering wishes against his mouth -if only, if only.

He wants to laugh. He wants to laugh, because it sort of feels like his most precious and important memories happen in airports, and isn't that just awfully cliche. He wants to laugh, because he remembers those words from months ago, remembers them now like the warning they were, because look where it got them -another airport, another goodbye. Wants to laugh, because maybe then he can ignore the telltale stinging in the backs of his eyes.

"Hey -"

There are hands on his cheeks, warm and long-fingered, so so gentle. Eijun's thumbs sweep at something under his eyes, and comes away wet when he pulls back. Tears? Oh god, he -

Fuck.

Fuck.

"Fuck -" He chokes, hand coming up to cover his mouth. He thinks, a little hysterically, that it's a good thing Chris-senpai and Animal have already backed off to let them have space, because it's enough that Eijun sees him like this, it's enough, it's _enough_.

Kazuya trips back and Eijun follows, body crashing into his like a storm surge. The hand on his mouth is tugged away, and he lets it be, doesn't have the strength anymore to refuse Eijun anything.

_I will give you anything, god, just –_

Eijun's lips slant against his, mouth open and desperate. Kazuya licks into him, tastes the heartache on his tongue –funny, isn't it, how it sometimes tastes like salt.

"Please," Eijun begs. "Please don't cry, or I'll start, and -wait, shit."

Kazuya does laugh then, presses his smiling mouth over the flushed, wet curve of Eijun's cheek, the bridge of his nose, the slant of his eyebrow, feels just a bit of that desperation ebb away, and thinks about how he would kiss this boy forever and a day if he could. The boy in his arms shudders and wraps himself around Kazuya, arms settling low and heavy at his hips, sobs hard into the crook of his neck.

He's never been one for crying, all his tears are used up by the time his arms find Eijun's waist underneath his coat, but he hangs on tight, lets Eijun cry enough tears for the both of them until there is nothing left to give. He doesn't realize he's humming until Eijun calms and begins to mouth the words against his throat.

"All my bags are packed, it's time to go. I'm standing here outside your door. I hate to wake you up to say goodbye..."

Kazuya sighs into Eijun's fluffy hair, brings a hand up to tenderly cup the nape of his neck. He presses his forehead to Eijun's, closes his eyes, lets his shaky voice sway them back and forth, back and forth.

"But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn. The taxi's waitin', he's blowin' his horn. Already I'm so lonesome I could die... So kiss me -" Eijun pauses, gives him a significant look. Kazuya rolls his eyes and slides his nose alongside Eijun's, kisses that pretty trembling mouth. "-and smile for me, tell me that you'll wait for me. Hold me like you'll never let me goooo -"

"Eijun, sto -"

"'Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane! I don't know when I'll be back again -"

"Stop!" Kazuya laughs, hand shoved over Eijun's mouth to mute his bellowing, because though Eijun starts off mumbling and intimate, it certainly doesn't continued that way. Kazuya is sure that the entire terminal is privy to Eijun's purposefully loud and off-key rendition, but the looks they're getting aren't bad -mostly shy smiles and knowing glances, like the crowd breaking around them understands a thing or two about parting in an airport.

"Got you smiling, though, didn't it?" Eijun asks cheekily. Kazuya pinches him, ignores the yelp, calls him an idiot just because he can. They are both smiling now, Eijun has always been good for that at least, but out of the corner of his eye he sees Chris-senpai approaching, and the heavy dread settles in him again. Eijun follows the direction of his eyes, and his hand squeezes desperately around Kazuya's hip like he knows what this means.

"Looks like it's time."

"Kazuya -"

"I love you. I'm sorry. I love you." He hadn't meant to say it, wasn't going to say it because he knows, he _knows _he's just making it harder, but Eijun smiles big enough to light up the world and he thinks, _maybe this is okay_.

He gets a warm kiss and a whispered "and I love you" in reply, and then -nothing. His eyes are closed, he keeps them that way for five, ten, fifteen seconds, and when he opens them next Eijun is already halfway to Chris, already just a rolling suitcase and a carry-on in a crowd of rolling suitcases and carry-ons.

_No. Please._

Eijun turns back around when he reaches security, gives him a big wave. There are tears streaming down his cheeks.

_No. Come back_. Please.

"Don't worry, Kazuya," he shouts with a smile. "We still have skype!"

* * *

**OMAKE**

Kazuya dreams of his graduation ceremony.

He dreams of people scattered around the school grounds like flower petals, crying, laughing, melancholic. He dreams of watching his batchmates on the baseball team bid their farewells with waves and bittersweet smiles. He dreams of crying parents, of packed bags. Of golden eyes staring eastward, to a future made of fresh starts and new opportunities.

The graduation ceremony he is dreaming of is not his own.

When he wakes up, he remembers that though Sawamura left him, in just a few short hours he will be back.

This time, to stay.

* * *

**AN**: IT'S DONE HALLELUJAH.

-Special thank you to superpol/mandraked because without her support this fic would be even more of a trainwreck than it already is, and also to fallibleflakes and the members of the eijundefensesquad skypechat for putting up with my whining and awful teasing heartheart  
-If you're wondering what beach Kazuya took Eijun to, it's El Matador Beach (PLEASE SEARCH IT, ITS SO PRETTY OMG)  
-I know nothing of LA or athletic training centers or beaches so please just take this with a grain of salt haha PLS I'M FROM IOWA  
-If you feel like I skimped out on the porn a bit then you're right I totally did and I might already be thinking about a pwp sidestory to go along with this…for when I'm feeling better xD

I'll be taking a short break because seriously this fic put me through the ringer, but I'll be back with more! Thank you for reading!


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